Thorns
by kerianne
Summary: All roses have thorns. Some just have more than others.... (sequel to Fire and Ice)


This is the sequel to "Fire and Ice"

This is the sequel to "Fire and Ice". If you haven't read it, check out my author page and read it there, or else this story will be a little confusing in parts.

Author: Kerianne 

Email: [mpike@froggernet.com][1]

Title: Thorns 

Spoilers: Takes place after the series canon. Spoilers for Aya's sister, that's about it. 

Warnings: Mild violence, language, bastard Schu 

*.....* - words in italics 

~....~ - thoughts 

~*....*~ - memories 

She never wore her hair in braids again. It didn't feel right, not after that one strange surreal moment in which she fully rejoined the real world. In a tribute to him, the one who brought her back, she always wore her hair loose around her shoulders.

And she never told anyone. Not even Ran.

Ran, her dear brother.... she still loved him, but he had changed so much. The boy with the twinkling violet eyes, who had read her stories and taught her everything she knew as a small child, was gone. Vengeance had eaten away at him so much that his mind was always occupied with revenge, even now that there was no one left to take revenge on. He was still so angry, angry that his parents had been taken away, angry that she had been taken away, even only for a short time. 

She knew everything about him, what he had done while she was asleep, how he and his friends from the flower shop were a group of assassins. She liked them, Yohji, Ken and Omi. They weren't as cold and quiet as her brother, and they kept things interesting, kept her from going crazy with no one but silent, stony Ran to talk to. They told her most of what she knew about their lives as Weiss, stories about their exciting missions and how they had singlehandedly taken down hundreds of corrupt, evil organizations. She knew they were exaggerating, but she always listened with a smile, because they were sweet guys, and they meant well.

But none of them knew what had happened in the time between the moment she awoke and the moment they arrived to rescue her. Ran was always asking her, asking over and over if she remembered anything, if she spoke to or saw anyone, if anything had happened. And she told him every time that she was disoriented, that she didn't remember anything, that she'd spent most of the time drifting in and out of unconsciousness. That she hadn't seen anyone.

She wasn't sure if it was true or not. Could he have been a dream, a randomly firing nerve in her brain, the product of overloaded senses and a mind that had been at rest for too long? Had she been so lonely that she had created an image of perfection to keep her company?

No. If he had been a figment of her imagination, he probably wouldn't have been so damn cold.

In any case, she did her best to forget all about him and return to her life. Ran had wanted her to live with him, but she'd acquired her own apartment. She needed to live on her own, and Ran was so protective. It was like she'd been given a second chance at life, and she wanted to live it to the fullest. She still visited him and the others often at the flower shop, though. And in all areas it seemed that she had adapted quite well to the abrupt return to life.

But despite the fact that she had many men to choose from, she never accepted a date.

If anyone had asked her why, she would not have been able to tell them.

* * * * *

"Did I ever tell you about the time we all stopped that crazy musician guy from killing everyone with his compositions?"

Aya smiled tolerantly, twisting a sprig of baby's breath between her fingers. "Only about fifteen times."

Yohji lifted an eyebrow. "Oh. Sorry, I guess there are so many tales of my heroism and bravery that I can't always remember which ones you've heard."

She tried not to laugh. "I thought it was my brother who did most of the acts of heroism in that case...."

"I can't get away with anything with you, can I?" Yohji smiled wryly, but Aya noticed an expression of.... almost apprehension in his eyes. At least, as close to apprehension as Yohji Kudou got. "Hey Aya.... can I ask you something?"

"Of course." She put the flower down in her lap and waited, looking up at him.

"Maybe we could, y'know, catch a movie sometime?" he asked smoothly.

She felt her heart sink. Yohji was a great friend, and admittedly a very good looking man, but.... 

"Hmm, okay, you don't like movies. Dinner? A cup of coffee?" Yohji waited for a response. When none came, he gave a sad half-smile. "Guess not."

"I'm sorry... but, I kind of already have someone..." The words were out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think about them. ~_Where did that come from?~_ she wondered.

"Oooh, oh really, well who's the lucky guy?" He seemed to perk up a bit-- one thing about Yohji Kudou, he bounced back quickly.

"You.... you don't know him," Aya murmured, feeling suddenly very alone. Why, of all times, would she think of him *_now*?_

"You'll have to introduce me sometime," Yohji said agreeably. "Hey, listen, I'd better get back to work before Ran decapitates me.... your brother can be so--"

He never got to finish his sentence, because suddenly the door to the back room was thrown open and a small dark-haired boy came hurtling through it, a troubled expression on his face. "Yohji, we've got trouble," he said.

"What--"

"Just come out front," Ken said shortly, casting an apprehensive glance at Aya.

Yohji glanced back to her as well, shrugged, and followed Ken out into the main room of the flower shop. Aya hung back for a moment, debating. She could tell that Ken didn't think she ought to see whatever was happening out front, but at the same time she felt oddly drawn, as if it were important somehow. Slowly she crept out of the back room and around the corner, into the shop.

At first she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. It was getting late, and dusk was beginning to settle over the street outside. Because of the time, the shop was empty of customers.

Except for one.

She turned around, and their eyes met. If it had been a movie, the lights would have dimmed, and dramatic music would have played, and all other characters but the two of them would have faded into the background. As it was, she simply stood staring at him, shock holding her paralyzed. Then she blinked and stumbled backward a few steps. He remained completely impassive, his face the same cold mask she remembered, except for the slight smirk touching his lips. He recognized her.

But he didn't care.

Immediately, Yohji was at her side, holding her elbow, supporting her. "Come on, Aya. This doesn't concern you," he murmured, caution in his tone, keeping a close eye on her stranger at all times.

Her gaze remained locked on dark blue eyes for a moment more; then she looked around, confused by the scene. They all seemed to know him, this mystery man who'd wandered in out of her dreams. What's more, they all seemed... afraid of him, or at least wary and suspicious.

All but Ran. With horror she realized that the expression in her brother's eyes as he stared the stranger down was hatred, pure hatred. Yohji tugged at her arm, and she absently brushed off the insistent hand on her elbow.

No one spoke for a few moments. They all stood frozen, in some kind of mockery of a tableau, each one waiting for someone else to speak. 

Finally he broke the silence. "Weiss. Good to see you all again. Why so tense? I'd just like to buy some flowers...."

A blur of maroon, and Ran was across the room, hauling the flame-haired man up against the wall. Aya gasped inaudibly, but the man seemed unconcerned. He was still smirking.

"Ahhh, Fujimiya. Still so quick to attack without thinking. You still want revenge, don't you? You'll spend the rest of your life searching for a vengeance that will never come, for a wrong that's already been undone. So sad... Don't you think there might be a better way?" he purred.

Ran punched him in the face. He hardly flinched, although an angry red mark rose on the smooth, pale skin of his cheek. "Does the truth hurt, Ran?" He chuckled a little. It still sounded empty to her. "I see your... lovely sister has been returned to you." His eyes flickered onto Aya, narrowing slightly in amusement. She swallowed hard, feeling uneasy under his intense gaze. Then he returned those striking eyes to her brother. "Isn't that enough for you, Ran? Or do you still want more?" His voice lowered to almost a whisper, yet they could all perfectly hear his words in the otherwise utter silence of the shop. "Did you like what you found in the assassin lifestyle? It's not about helping the innocent anymore, is it. No... no, I think you found that killing brought you much, much more than that...."

For a moment, Ran remained unmoving, almost held in a trance by the soothing yet poisonous whispers. Abruptly, he snapped out of it and backhanded the man again. 

"Ran..." he murmured, still unfazed. "I always did like playing with you. You're so easy to anger. Press a few trigger buttons in your mind and you fly into a murderous rage. The perfect personality for a cold-blooded killer, isn't it?" Another punch to the face. The stranger smiled. "It angers you that your dear, innocent sister is learning the truth about you. Oh, if you only knew...."

Aya's face flushed with nervousness. Her secret....

"What are you talking about?" Ran spoke to the man for the first time, his tone soft and low and extremely dangerous.

Cold blue eyes twinkled. "Oh, you would love to know, Ran. You're just *_dying*_ to know. You're wondering what your perfect sister, the ray of light in your life, the sparkling jewel of your existence, could possibly have to do with a sub-human piece of slime like me." He stated the words in a completely deadpan tone. Almost as if he believed them himself. "Are you sure you *_really*_ want to know?"

Ran slapped him across the face. "Tell me," he growled through gritted teeth. Aya found herself wondering why the man was just standing there taking this abuse.

"I'll do more than tell you. I'll show you." Smiling serenely, he closed his eyes. He never touched Ran, but the violet-eyed assassin's head arched backwards and he gave what sounded like a cry of pain. Aya remembered the way the stranger had spoken inside her mind....

Too quickly for anyone to react, Ran snapped out of the mental stupor and wound long, pale fingers around the man's neck, throttling him. A few orange strands were caught between the smooth skin of his neck and Ran's fingers, and incongruously Aya found her eyes drawn to this minor detail. She could feel her face draining of color, and she was fairly sure her brother was going to just choke the life out of this man right here and now. But abruptly Ran's hands fell limp and useless away from his neck, and the flame-haired man stepped easily out of the way.

"Hmm, seems like I touched a nerve. Bothers you to find out your dear sister isn't as innocent as you thought she was?" He brushed off his jacket and rotated his shoulders, every movement catlike in its grace. "Now, how about selling me some flowers?"

The four Weiss members exchanged glances, then looked back at the redhead. He reached into his pocket and produced a sheaf of bills, looking expectantly at the counter.

Aya could see the wheels turning in each boy's head. Apparently, they all decided it would be best to just play along; Ran motioned to Omi, and the younger boy got behind the counter, wide eyes fixed on the stranger.

"A single red rose, please." He carefully took the delicate crimson bloom from Omi's hand, admired it for a moment, then handed over the money. Then he slowly made his way toward the door.

No. Toward *_her*._

Her heart fluttered silently in her chest as he came to a stop directly in front of her, looking deep into her eyes.... into her soul, her thoughts, seeing all the way through her to the other side. As she stared blankly up at him, lost in the gaze, he carefully lifted her limp hand and pressed the stem of the rose into it.

__

~For you, liebe.~ His voice invaded her mind briefly, leaving traces of bitterness, then was gone. The corner of his mouth curled up in a half-smirk, half-smile. He gave her a little salute-wave, and then he was gone too, taken in by the shadows of the night outside. 

Aya looked slowly down at her hand, the one clutching the rose. She opened it slowly, letting the stem lie flat on the palm of her hand, and was a little surprised to see a small trickle of blood running down her fingers. The thorns. Now that she'd noticed the injury, she became aware of a dull ache in her hand. She ignored it, closing her fingers around the stem once again, lost in thought.

"Find him." 

Her brother's cold voice broke through her reverie. She quickly turned to look at him, but he refused to meet her eye, instead addressing the rest of Weiss. "Let's go. We're going to find him."

"He's probably long gone by now, you know how fast he moves--" Omi began.

Ran silenced him with a glower. "If it takes all goddamn night, we're going to find him." He wavered for a moment, then turned back to her. "Aya...."

"N-nani?" she murmured, feeling suddenly ashamed to have those disapproving violet eyes regarding her.

He looked at her for a moment, his expression betraying the many things he wanted to say to her. Finally he just sighed. "Go on home. We're closing up for the night."

Aya nodded and started for the door. Hand on the doorknob, she turned back and lingered for a moment. "Ran--"

"Go on home. We'll talk later." He wouldn't meet her eye again, she noticed. Face burning with shame and guilt, emotions swirling in confused circles in her mind, she got in the car and began to make her way back to her apartment.

Then she stopped. The thought occurred to her that Ran would certainly kill him if Weiss did manage to track him down.

Ever since the day she'd awakened, she'd dreamed of seeing him again. She'd held, deep inside her subconscious, that little glimmer of hope that the future that was not possible would come to pass. Someday.... someday he'd return.

And now that someday was here, and she was watching it slip away. She knew she didn't have a chance. He didn't care about her, so why should she care about him?

All the same, she turned the car around and began searching the streets.

* * * * *

He was cornered. And yet he remained calm, maddeningly calm, returning their murderous glares with a vaguely amused sort of regard. So much anger, over something so unimportant. The dynamics between people, what were they? Constantly changing, never the same from one minute to the next, and forgotten in a day or a week or a year. 

It was surprising how much easier it was to live when you stopped caring about life.

He tilted his head back, leaning it against the cold brick wall of the alley, exposing the soft flesh to the glinting wire held by one of his attackers. Of course, he could kill them all right now, without even moving from his spot. But why make things that easy for them? It would be a crime to throw away this moment with such a lack of creativity.

"Say something!" Ran dropped the katana to his side and kicked him in the chest. And he did feel pain then, but even as he doubled over and his vision exploded in red, he was smirking. Pain didn't matter. He had taken a cue from Farfarello on that one.

"Why don't you just kill me?" he asked softly, coughing as he came back to an upright position. "This is a perfect opportunity for you. You know I could stop you if I really wanted to, but I'm not stopping you. Why not take that chance?"

There was no answer from the four armed men. No, they were boys, all of them, he realized with a laugh. Boys, so easily manipulated that it almost wasn't any fun.

Almost.

He delved into the mind of the nearest one, the youngest, and nearly laughed aloud again. "Justice? What do you know about justice? Omi here says it's wrong to kill someone who's not putting up a fight. Oh, but isn't that what you do for a living, boys?"

He felt the cold blade against his throat before he saw it, and then the violet-eyed assassin's face was so close to his that he could feel Ran's breath on his face. "I should kill you," Ran hissed. "I should kill you right now."

"Then do it." Dark blue eyes slid up to meet Ran's, silently laughing.

Ran paused. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I know you won't just stand there and let me kill you."

"Maybe I *_want*_ you to kill me, did you ever consider that?" Schuldig shrugged, pushing himself slightly against the blade, just enough to draw a tiny trickle of blood at the base of his neck.

"Then I wouldn't want to do you any favors," Ran growled, abruptly dropping the katana to his side. "We'll both walk away now. But I'm warning you, stay the fuck away from my sister."

Schuldig smiled. "Oh, I plan on it. The question is.... can your sister stay away from _me_?"

Ran's eyes narrowed, and his whole plan to track down Schuldig and kill him in his sleep someday went flying out the window. Gripping the taller assassin's shoulders, he slammed him back against the wall, again, again, red stars clouding his vision. He had never been this angry, not since he'd finally gained revenge on Takatori, and it was strange, but it felt almost cleansing, purifying, as if maybe by breaking this slender but powerful body in his arms, happiness would finally be his....

"Stop."

At that moment, Ran would not have listened to a thousand screaming voices, but one soft female voice stopped him. He looked up, vision clearing as he saw her standing in the entrance of the alley, framed by light from the streetlamps.

"Aya, go home," he barked out, his voice sounding harsh and grating even to his own ears. "This doesn't concern you."

Her eyes narrowed, flashing with an anger that Ran had never seen there before. "Let him go."

"You don't understand," her brother snapped, expression tense. "I'm trying to do my job-- and to protect you. Don't get in the way."

"It's not your job to protect me anymore," Aya shot back, advancing a step closer. Her heart was pounding in her chest, fear for the redheaded stranger freezing her blood to ice, but at the same time sending anger and adrenaline coursing through her veins. "I'm an adult now. And what kind of protector were you three years ago when you let me get hit by a car, hmm?" Her eyes widened as soon as the words left her mouth and she saw her brother recoil as if he'd been physically slapped. She hadn't meant it, of course-- she wasn't thinking straight, she hadn't been thinking straight since the moment she'd laid eyes on him again.

The redhead, seeing that his captor was distracted, took the opportunity to slip away from the four Weiss assassins. Running down the alley, he nearly crashed directly into Aya. Instinctively she put her arms out to break her fall and found her fingertips brushing against the warm, soft cotton of his shirt. They stood face to face for a moment, nearly in each other's arms; then he smirked and lightly pushed her away, giving the same little salute-wave as before. Out on the street, the door to a blue car swung open, and the vehicle roared away.

Without thinking, Aya immediately hurried to her own car. She knew she was going to follow him. She didn't know why, but some part of herself was screaming, telling her not to give up this opportunity. For a moment she hesitated, looking back to the still-hurt face of her brother. He met her gaze for a moment, then looked away. Ashamed once again. Ashamed of her.

Ignoring the sudden twist in her stomach, she slid into her car and floored the gas. Had to find him. Couldn't let him get away.

Not again.

* * * * *

Hesitantly, Aya poked her head around the corner just in time to see him disappear into his apartment. ~_Perfect.~_ Carefully, almost as if she was on some sort of dangerous mission, she slipped out into the hallway and stood in front of the door that had just swung shut.

And stared at it.

__

~Yep. Here I am.~ She shifted from one foot to the other, eyes locked on the gold numbers that labeled the door. 402.

__

~Might as well knock,~ she told herself casually, lifting her hand... then dropping it, as a sheer bolt of panic shot through her at the idea of what she was about to do. ~_On second thought, maybe I'll wait a moment,~_ she thought, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that was quite loudly calling her a coward.

The more she thought about it, the stupider the idea sounded in her mind. Honestly, what was she expecting him to do, invite her in for tea and cookies? There was no way he was going to be particularly pleased by her visit, especially after the showdown with her brother and his friends. ~_I'm going to just turn around and leave now,~_ she decided, the butterflies in her stomach easing up a bit at the declaration. ~_I'm going to forget I was ever here and forget I ever met that man. Then I'm going to go see Ran and find out if there's any possible way I can get him to forgive me within the next thirty years. Here I go... I'm leaving...~_

"Hello."

Aya's head snapped up at the sudden voice, and she felt her throat constrict and her heart begin to pound. While she had been mentally debating, he had opened the door, and was now standing in the doorway, watching her with an amused look in his icy blue eyes. "Would you like to come in?" he continued, the barest hint of a cold smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't have any tea or cookies..."

Her face flamed at the revelation that he'd been listening to her thoughts while she'd been outside the door. He had heard all her uncertainty, all her nervousness, all her awkward panicking. Lovely. She had been at a disadvantage since the moment she'd walked up to his door-- maybe even before. For a moment she considered turning her back and running, never to return. ~_On second thought, I've come this far...~_ Before she could lose her nerve, she hurried through the open door into the sparsely decorated apartment.

He followed, closing the door behind them. Sitting down delicately on the nearest chair, Aya realized for the first time that maybe she ought to be afraid. Here she was, alone, unarmed, in the home of a man who had already taken advantage of her once and who was clearly a sworn enemy of her brother-- which meant he was evil, she supposed. Despite all this, she felt no fear, only nervousness... a need to impress him, make him understand whatever she had come here to say to him. Even though she wasn't quite sure what it was yet.

"So you're not afraid of me." His voice startled her for the second time that evening. She sat up straight in her chair, putting a hand to her forehead, as if the ineffectual little movement would keep his mind out of hers. "I'm disappointed. I thought you were more intelligent than that."

"You won't hurt me," Aya answered confidently. Sitting here, at his kitchen table, surrounded by a normal if somewhat bare apartment setting, it was almost effortless to believe that. Here she could believe he was just like anyone else.... just like her.

This elicited a bitter laugh from him. "We're nothing alike, liebe. That's the first thing you've got to learn. And how can you be so sure I won't hurt you?" His lips twitched into a smirk. "You said it yourself. Alone, unarmed, on my territory. I'm afraid, Fujimiya-san, that you are asking for trouble."

"But I'm still here," she answered simply.

He nodded slowly. "That you are." His eyes slid slowly up from the table to meet hers, and he spoke again after a slight pause. "Why?"

Aya met his gaze firmly. "Why not?" She was buying time, trying to beat him at his own game. She knew she would probably lose; however, oddly enough, she was not afraid of that either.

Jaded blue eyes rolled heavenward. "I'm sure your brother would be less than thrilled to learn you were here. As would your friends. Why take that risk?"

"Because... because I wanted to talk to you."

He laughed outright at this, causing her face to redden again in embarrassment. "And what could a sweet, innocent little girl like you and a horrible, murdering monster like me possibly have to talk to each other about?"

"Do you really mean that?"

"What?" He looked a little taken aback.

"When you say those horrible things about yourself. Do you mean them? Is that really how you see yourself?" she asked softly, eyes dark with concern.

For a moment, she saw his countenance falter. For the first time, he looked uncertain, confused. Quickly he blinked it away and broke the gaze, looking sullenly down at the table again. "How do you see yourself, Aya?" he responded, not looking up at her. Her name sounded rough and harsh coming out of his mouth, but she liked it. "Girl given another lease on life. Miraculous recovery from a two year coma. Is that all you are, Aya? A newspaper headline? A special interest story?"

She blinked, confused by his sudden change in tactics. "I--"

"No, you're not," he interrupted. "You know why? Because you're real. Your life is real. You have people who love you, you have things you enjoy doing, you are surrounded by life. When you wake up in the morning, you have reasons to want to get out of bed. That's who you are. You, Aya, are life."

"And you?" Her voice was soft, humbled by his sudden outburst.

He raised one eyebrow, the cold expression slipping effortlessly back into place. "Me? I'm guilty."

A sudden onrush of memories followed his words. 

__

~*"You never told me your name."

A pause. He smiled emptily. "I'm guilty."*~

"Why?" she cried out. "What does it mean? I don't understand..."

He gave a wry half-smile. "Don't strain your mind trying to find hidden meanings. It's my name. Schuldig. Guilty. They're one and the same."

Aya stared at him, this walking contradiction in terms, and now she was able to put a name to the face. Schuldig. It fit him strangely well, exotic like his beauty and his accent and the way he effortlessly probed minds, as if they were books whose covers need only be opened for him to see the complete contents.

"I like the way your mind works," he said offhandedly.

"What?" She shook herself, stopped staring at him and started paying attention.

"The way you describe things in your head. It's really rather beautiful. You see things the way an artist might... or a poet." He shrugged. "Your mind is purer than most. You see things the way they are, not the way you've been told to see them. It's interesting."

Aya wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or uncomfortable. He was looking at her like a scientist might examine a new finding under a microscope-- curious, but with a distant quality. Just as the scientist did not care about the thoughts and feelings of the organism he was studying, there was no emotion to be found in Schuldig's gaze. "Thank you," she said finally, a little primly.

"What are you here for, Aya?" The blunt suddenness of the question surprised her a little. He held her gaze, unwavering, his expression turning serious and unreadable. Apparently he was finished with small talk.

"Can't you just read my mind?" she bluffed, swallowing hard. ~_Don't make me say it...~_

"I want to hear it from you." The tiniest ghost of a smile flitted across his features.

__

~Damn you...~

"Go on, Aya...." He was all out smirking now, taunting her with his eyes. "Tell me how beautiful you think I am. Tell me how you want to save me. Tell me how you think you love me." He gave a short, sharp laugh. "So I'm beautiful? Beautiful like that rose I gave you. I'd like to give you a little advice...." He took hold of her hand, lifting it palm upward so that they both could see the faint, healing red marks that the thorns had made on her skin. "Roses have thorns, Aya."

"I--" she stammered, unsure of what to say, desperately aware of the contact between his hand and hers. 

"Love. You're still thinking about love." He gave a short, sharp laugh. "Who gave you the right to think you know what love is? You're nothing but a *_child*_, Aya, a *_stupid*_ child..."

"Stop. Stop it," Aya murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to begin coursing down her cheeks. She forced herself to look away, to keep her eyes fixed on the floor.

"*_Look at me.*_" He grabbed her shoulders and jerked her forward sharply, eliciting a soft cry from her lips. She expected to see cruel enjoyment or anger in his gaze, and was surprised to realize that he looked almost hurt. Bitterness flashed in his eyes. "I don't want your pity, or your help, or your love," he spat. "If you knew what love was, you would know well enough not to waste it on me."

"Why are you doing this?" she choked out, unshed tears blurring her vision. "Why did you come back? Why couldn't you just leave us alone?"

His eyes bored into hers for a moment more; then he roughly released her, and she slumped back against the chair, face drawn and pale. "Get out."

"You can't just--"

"I was playing a game. The game ends here. Get out." It was obvious that he was fighting to keep his voice under control, and once again Aya was reminded of the fact that he was a very dangerous man. Standing up on shaky legs, she left the apartment, not even looking back long enough to shut the door.

A few steps down the hallway, she heard the door slam with a loud, final crash. Turning around, she stared at the closed door with the gold numbers that said 402, at the silent, empty hallway that surrounded it.

__

~*"Roses have thorns, Aya..."*~

And, finally, she allowed herself to cry.

~owari~

leave comments please. ^_^ next part coming soon.

   [1]: mailto:mpike@froggernet.com



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